


Jacket in the Snow

by rookiewithachance



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, Undertale Genocide Route, and papyrus meets them in the judgment hall, sans and papyrus switch battle placements, so chara/frisk fight sans at the end of snowdin, underfell genocide route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rookiewithachance/pseuds/rookiewithachance
Summary: Sans confronts the fallen human before they can proceed further. He knows what they've done, and they can't be allowed to continue. Only, to them, he's nothing more than a nuisance. He's in the way. But not for long.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i had this idea from a comic i saw and don't remember where i found it, but please enjoy
> 
> thanks to KatMelody for beta'in' for me. ur the best editor a sloppy writer like me could hope for :p

Pain. Sans felt only pain, pure and white in his mind amidst the snow. Searing, burning, spreading through him like a fire that was both eating him alive and licking at his bones, taking it’s time tasting the flavor of his _pain_. Of his death? Was he dying? Is this what death felt like? Was death really just an all-consuming pain? Or would it end?

The questions overwhelmed him, so he eventually just stopped thinking.

The child leaves. They don’t wait for him to turn to dust. Perhaps they too can feel that it’s only a matter of time. Even here, lying in the snow because he can’t feel his limbs anymore let alone move them, it’s obvious. So he stays where he is, feeling his bones slowly unravel and turn to dust that flutters in the wind. Mingling with the purity of the snow’s whiteness. It felt wrong. The thought made him laugh. Since when did he care?

Time blurs. All he has are his thoughts, and even those sound foreign to him. He wonders how long he’s been here, and how much longer he’ll last. He feels detached from his own death. He’s not in pain anymore. He can’t feel the cold, despite the knowledge that the snow must have seeped through his clothes by now. He might not know how long it’s been, but time has passed. He waits.

Eventually, he hears crunching. Boots on the snow. This seems to shock him out of his stupor, because he finds himself able to move, and looks up.

“B-boss…”

Papyrus doesn’t acknowledge him. He’s too far away, Sans doubts he even heard him. He coughs, feeling a slight chill now, and tries again. “Boss!”

Still no answer. Papyrus just keeps walking towards him, the same neutral expression on his face. Sans pushes himself to his feet, legs shaky. When he finally rights himself, he looks up to see that Papyrus has stopped in front of him. His emotions get the better of him, and he lunges forward, needing to feel his brother’s arms wrapped around him.

The impact never comes.

He blinks, confused. He’s standing on the other side of Papyrus now, who hasn’t moved or recognized his presence at all. He feels anger flare up in his chest cavity.

“What the fuck, bro? Why aren’t you looking at me?”

When he turns to swing a punch at Pap’s back, he can’t deny what happened. His hand passes right through him, armor and bone and all. Like it’s air. Like _he’s_ air.

“Wh-what… what the hell…”

Hands shaking, he follows Papyrus’ line of sight.

A pile of ash, and his jacket.

He clutches the one he’s wearing even tighter. His breath comes in short, ragged gasps. Tears run down his face. _I… I’m dead. I’m really dead. And Pap is here to see it._

Without a sound, Papyrus scoops up Sans’ jacket and strides back in the direction he came from. It takes Sans a moment to recognize the change, but as soon as he does he sprints to catch up. He doesn’t know why he does it, but he doesn’t know what else he would do either. He follows Papyrus all the way back to their house—can it still be his too, even if he isn’t around anymore to live in it?

Papyrus closes the door behind him. With hesitation, Sans walks through it. It shows no resistance to his presence.

His brother is on his knees now. The jacket is crumbled in his vice grip. He’s staring at it, expression unreadable. It’s only once he buries his face in it that his shoulders begin to shake.

Sans’ tears restart at the sight. “Boss… Pap, bro, it’s…”

He isn’t thinking straight when he reaches out to comfort Papyrus. He recognizes that it shouldn’t shock him when his hand passes through his brother’s head, but it shakes him even more. It literally shakes him, actually, as a gut-wrenching sob wracks his frame, and he doubles over with the force of it. He clutches his stomach. What was it he was going to say? _It’s alright. I’m right here._ It’s something he always says, always _said_ , to comfort Pap when they were younger. When he needed it. It just… slipped out. He wasn’t sure he always believed it every time he’d said it in the past, and he sure as hell didn’t believe it now.

Papyrus had stopped crying. When he pulled the tear-stained jacket away from his face, the expression it revealed pissed off and… though Sans hesitated to use the term after what had happened, _determined_. He silently puts the jacket on over his battle armor, rucking the sleeves up past his gloves and adjusting the fur-lined hood so it frames his neck. He stands. A dialogue box pops up above his head, and Sans’ eyes skim the text with rapt interest. 

_“the thought of getting vengeance for the death of your brother… it fills you with a strong will to live. it fills you with a power beyond your dreams that stems from an overwhelming desire for something. it fills you with_ determination _. and you know exactly what you’re going to use it for.”_

**Author's Note:**

> second chapter in the works, but for now this is a one-off


End file.
